Not Alone
by DestinedForDisaster
Summary: When Sherlock is given some devastating news, he completely shuts down. After an incident that makes John reassess what Sherlock means to him, he is left to deal with Sherlock who is on the verge of falling back into the past. When Mycroft struggles to cope with the problems with his brother, he finally relies on Greg for suppost. Johnlock. Mystrade. Post-Reichenbach. AU.
1. Chapter 1: The Truth

Hi, its taken me ages to actually get the confidence to start uploading this fic! Its my first Sherlock one, so any criticism is very welcome. In this AU, John didn't get with Mary and Sherlock and John are unaware of Greg and Mycroft's relationship. This story is going to be several chapters long, I've already started chapter four so I'll update regularly. Please review, it gives me the confidence to write :) x

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It was mid-march, early afternoon, a year after the fall. Sherlock and I had just returned home from a particularly complex and emotionally challenging – for me at least – case, involving the murder of a mother of two young children whom at that time had been pregnant with her third. The case had taken at least 3 days to solve – Sherlock claimed to have worked it out in 2 hours but was just waiting on hard evidence - but it had turned out that the woman in question had been located by some old school 'friends' whom still had a vendetta against her as they had been expelled after horrendous bullying.

But anyway, like I said, mid-march, he was stressed, I was upset and neither of us had slept in two days. So when we entered 221b to discover that Mrs Hudson had left a note informing us that she had gone to bingo and wouldn't be back until late, we were both rather relieved not to have the old woman fussing. We immediately proceeded up onto the first floor where we fell, exhausted into our respective chairs and sighed.

And that's when it happened. Okay, maybe not the 'it' you're hoping for but it's still a big 'it'.

Sherlock, cold, emotionless Sherlock, began to cry silently in his chair. His face was straight and his mouth was tightly shut, but his eyes. His beautiful, mysterious, tear-filled eyes gave away the pain he harboured and betrayed his cold exterior by letting the droplets run down his face as I watched in in shock.

"Sherlock?" I asked as I leant forward in my chair. "What's going on?"

"John," He began in a voice very unlike his own. "I need to tell you something of upmost importance; however I need to ask one think from you. You let me finish."

"Of course."

"John, you've saved my life so many times and in so many ways and you are the most important thing in my life. I need you to understand how much I care. You made me feel more in the last 5 years than I have in my whole life, so thank you." He whispered, avoiding my eyes. Tear after tear slid down his pale, thin cheeks as he spoke in a pained voice.

"Sherlock, what's going on? You're scaring m-" I began but I was cut off by a woman's high pitched voice outside the door.

"Sherlock!"

It was Molly.

"Molly, come in, please take a seat." He replied as he turned his face away.

"Sherlock?" I asked again, I could feel my heart beating quicker and quicker.

"John," Molly began when Sherlock didn't answer. "Sherlock had some news this morning. He's um, he's got, a um-"

"Molly just tell him!" Sherlock replied impatiently, the anger was apparent in his voice as he turned to face me. His eyes were now red and wide.

"Tell me what, if someone doesn't tell right now, I swear to god!" I began to shout.

"I'VE GOT A TUMOUR!" Sherlock roared, jumping up from his seat and going into his bedroom before slamming the door behind him.

"Molly, please tell me this isn't happening!"

"Sh-Sherlock has a cancerous tumour in his brain. I'm so sorry John." And then she began to tell me the story of how this had come to their knowledge but I was barely listening.

"But he'll be okay right, they can remove it or shrink or…" I began to hyperventilate.

"John." She took my hands hers, tears slipping down her cheeks as she whispered "He's not going to make it."

I let out a strangulated sob as he ran my hand across my face, before taking a deep breath in.

"Look, Molly, thank you for your help, but I think Sherlock and I need to sit and talk now." I croaked as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Of course, I'll see myself out."

Once she left, I went to Sherlock's room. I found him lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He didn't even seem to register me entering his room but I sat down beside him all the same.

"Sherlock." I whispered. "Come here."

I dragged him into my arms and held his head against my chest as he let out a badly concealed cry.

"Hey, don't be afraid to cry." And with that he sobbed.

He sobbed and he sobbed until all the came out was small hiccups. I wasn't even aware that the man whom everyone thought was cold as ice was able to harbour so much emotion. But maybe it was that he held too much. His body shook violently as I rocked him back and forth, helpless tears slid down my cheeks as his shields went down. And that was how we remained for hours.

I cradled him as he slept, giving me time to process the depth and seriousness of what was happening.

He. Was. Dying.

Sherlock. Was. Dying

My. Sherlock. Was. Dying.

I awoke it was almost 6. I looked around and found myself in Sherlock's bed, he was still lying on my chest sound asleep. Then I saw it. The blood. Coming from Sherlock's nose and ears and running onto my black and white striped jumper.

"Oh Jesus, Sherlock, Sherlock wake up." I said as I shook him. He made as strange noise and half opened his eyes. "Sherlock, don't move, I'm going to get my medical kit."

I climbed out of bed and ran upstairs to my room and grabbed my medical bag which was at the bottom of my cupboard. Something which has come in handy many times when Sherlock has felt the need to get himself near fatally injured. I ran back down to Sherlock and sat cross legged on a pillow and put his head on my lap.

"Sherlock, I'm just going to clean you up a bit okay, can you hear me?"

"John, what's happening to me?" He asked, the terror was evident in his voice.

"Nothing, you're fine. Just stay still for me, I'm going to give Mycroft a call and we'll get you to hospital. I'm not letting them give up on you just yet." I told him as I washed away the blood with the saline solution, before filling his nose and ears with some sterile cotton wool so that the blood would clot.

"No. Mycroft." He whispered once I'd finished, his face had gone pale and he looked like was going to pass out any minute.

"Sherlock, he is the only way we're going to get you help." I said, getting off the bed and calling Mycroft.

"J-John." I heard an unfamiliar voice croak down the phone.

"Mycroft?"

"John, I've just been told about Sherlock's condition and I saw what's just happened on the CCTV in the flat. There's a private ambulance on its way, I shall meet you there. Goodbye John." And he hung up.

And then the sirens were outside. And the paramedics were in the room. And Sherlock was being put on a stretcher.

He lay there staring at the ceiling as they carried him down the stairs. I grabbed for his hand and held it tightly as I followed them into the ambulance which was to take us to the private hospital where Mycroft was waiting for us.

"John?" Sherlock whimpered.

"I'm here."

"Promise me that you won't leave me."

"I won't." I said and I felt his grip on my hand loosen.

A bit too much.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, stay awake for me. Keep talking to me, don't fall asleep." And he did, we kept him awake all the way to the hospital. I made him deduce everything about the paramedic who as it turned out was a lesbian adrenaline junkie who was currently having an affair with the gorgeous ambulance driver.

As soon as we reached the hospital, Sherlock was whisked away and I was taken to the relative's room where I found Mycroft and Lestrade sat next to one another on the comfortable chairs, hands entwined and Mycroft's head resting on Greg's shoulder as the detective whispered words of comfort into his partner's ear. They were both dressed smartly and looked as if they had been out, perhaps for dinner. I'd often wondered if the two of them where more than just acquaintances however, I never thought that they were anything more than just friends. How wrong I was.

"Mycroft, Greg!" I said as the two men greeted me – Greg with a tight hug and Mycroft with a handshake.

"Where's Sherlock?" Asked Mycroft, his voice was calm but his eyes told a completely different story.

"He's been taken for a scan; they want to see the change from his previous scans so that they can make their own prognosis."

"He's in the best hands, isn't he Myc." Greg said reassuringly. "John, we haven't told Sherlock about us yet. We're not quite sure how he's going to react so we've been keeping it a secret."

"How long have you two, you know?"

"Just after Sherlock's 'funeral'."

"So nearly three years isn't it Gregory." Mycroft said as he slipped his hand back into his partners.

"How did you keep that a secret?" I asked, laughing in spite of the situation.

"With great difficulty, I've been living at his for the last year and a half, I mean, the amount of times Sherlock has turned up unannounced and we've been-" Thankfully Mycroft cut him off.

"John doesn't need to know about that, does he Gregory." Mycroft said gently.

Before either of us could say anything, the doctor who had taken Sherlock away came in.

"Dr Watson, Mr Holmes, Detective Lestrade, please take a seat." She said politely. "I'm Jo Saunders, Sherlock's neurologist, I'm a senior consultant. We have taken a look at Sherlock's scans and I do agree with what my colleagues said about the tumour being extremely large, however, I would like to put him on a course of chemotherapy to shrink the tumour so that we can operate. I am optimistic, but I need you to understand that because of the size of the tumour, the procedure is very risky."

"Does Sherlock know all this?" Mycroft asked, his face was unreadable.

"That's why I came to talk to you, Sherlock is refusing chemo, he doesn't want any treatment and he is refusing to let any of my staff near him. Mr Holmes, would you like to speak to him?" Asked the doctor who was avoiding everyone's eyes.

"I don't know what good it will do, but I suppose anything is worth a go if it'll make my little brother see sense." Mycroft replied as he stood up. "You may want to come too, you could wait outside until I've finished." And we followed the young medical professional towards a large room where Sherlock was lying on a bed staring at the ceiling.

Mycroft went in alone and shut the door behind him whilst Greg and I waited outside patiently.

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Please review, it means a lot! Till next time x


	2. Chapter 2: The refusal

I was planning on uploading this before, however I did my DofE this weekend and didn't get a chance! I'm absolutely exhausted and I can't walk, but its all worth it! Thank you to Vidgealz C Valvatore and Cati3M! Anyway, enjoy and please review! x

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"He'll see sense won't he, I mean, he's just in shock right, he wouldn't really…" The detective trailed off as we stood in the white corridor of the hospital.

"I don't know what I'd do without him. Greg I… I…" I began to sob into the other man's shoulder.

"I know you do. It's a difficult business you know, being in love with a Holmes." Greg said softly, he didn't seem put off at all to have me crying on him.

"How long did it take you to realise?"

"Mycroft and I had been together for 6 months. At first it had just been about sex. If I'm honest, he would turn up at mine or I would turn up at his after a hard day and then we would just leave. There was no real emotion involved, but as time went on, we'd stay a little longer, just to be in one another's company until we were with each other for days on end and that's when I realised. When I told him I thought he'd run a mile but instead he smiled and kissed me. It took him a while but he did say it and now here we are." Lestrade explained.

"I don't think Sherlock will ever feel the same way." I whispered sadly.

"When I got together with Mycroft I felt exactly the same way, but look at us now. We are hopelessly in love with one another and- John, can you keep something a secret?"

"Of course."

"I'm going to propose to him. I was going to take him out tonight and ask him to marry me but when I arrived at his, he was in tears after having just come off the phone from you."

"Congratu-" But I was cut off by the sounds off Mycroft and Sherlock fighting from inside the room.

Lestrade and I ran into the room to find Sherlock pinned on the floor, Mycroft trying to prise a scalpel from his grip as he held the younger sibling to the floor.

"Press the panic button!" Mycroft said as he finally took the scalpel away and handed it to Lestrade.

Almost immediately, a group of nurses came running in and one of them injected a sedative into Sherlock's arm. The three of us left the room as a barely conscious Sherlock was placed back into his bed.

"What the hell happened?" Greg asked as soon as we shut the door behind us. He placed his hand on Mycroft's face and stroked the red mark on his cheek with his thumb.

"He tried to kill himself. He said that he didn't want chemo because he had nothing to live for and he wasn't prepared to go through what our father went through for nothing." Mycroft said, tears in his eyes.

"But what about…" I said, coming to the realisation that Sherlock really didn't know.

"He said that you would never forgive him for what he did."

"John, you have to tell him. If you don't want us to lose him then you have to tell him how you feel, make him realise that he has you." Greg told me. He was right.

I hugged Greg in thanks and entered the private room where Sherlock lay, barely awake.

"He'll come round properly in a few minutes but he won't be strong enough to get up properly for a few hours. I'll leave you two to talk, however I must inform you that Psych will be down to make an assessment in the morning, but for now, try to talk to him. This is his only hope of survival." Jo placed a comforting hand on my arm. "I need to go see my other patients, but I've had a word with the Director of Surgery who has agreed to let you stay in one of the on call rooms. You've got about an hour before Sherlock will be forced to sleep so try and wrap it up by then." I didn't even notice her leave after checking his obs.

I sat myself beside him, watching over him, guarding him, protecting him from harm.

"I love you so much Sherlock, why can't you see that?" I whispered, half to myself.

"See what?" Crooked the detective, coming round from the slumber that had been forced upon him.

"Why Sherlock, why?" I sighed, looking at him sadly, trying toconceal my pity so that he wouldn't push me away.

"Because I can't. Not alone, with nothing waiting for me if I do make it." Sherlock said calmly, looking at the door to most likely avoid making any eye contact.

"Nothing waiting for you? What do you think I'd be doing Sherlock? Off gallivanting around the world whilst you suffer through your chemo?" I said angrily, my hurt coming out in the worst possible way.

"You know that's not what I meant. But I have nothing to fight for and nobody to fight for me."

"You have me." I said simply.

"Not like that I don't." He replied, finally look at me straight in the eyes.

"Like what?" I replied, my heart beating faster and faster as his eyes bore into me like daggers.

"You know what."

"Yes, I do. And I want you to know that you have me in every way." He gasped slightly." You always have and you always will." I whispered, taking his hand in mine.

"Really?" He questioned, I could tell that he wasn't quite sure if he believed what his ears were telling him.

"Really." I confirmed, putting my free hand on the side of his face and kissing him gently.

We pulled apart and he looked at me and smiled, tears streaming down his face, a small sob escaping his lips. I kissed him again, this time for longer, almost as a way of telling him that I wasn't going to leave him. I tangled my fingers in his hair, playing with the messy ringlets as he placed one hand on my chest, feeling my heart beating rapidly. When we pulled apart again, Sherlock dissolved into a sobbing mess that apart from last night, I'd never dreamed that I'd ever see him like.

"Please don't leave me." He wept, the guilt that overcame me for not making my feelings clear from the start, reduced me to silent tears.

"Never." I said after what felt like forever. "Move over."

I climbed in beside him, letting him rest his head upon my chest as our hands entwined without a second thought.

Sherlock moved his mouth up to my ear, his soft breath upon my face sent quivers down my spine. "I love you John." He said in a barely audible whisper.

"I love you too." I said looking into his haunted grey eyes, the mysterious pools drawing me closer and closer until our lips were together once again.

"Is this enough for you to have waiting for you?" I pondered allowed as we broke apart.

"Most definitely."

"Prove it." I said, moving him off me before getting off the bed and walking over to the table where the consent forms for chemotherapy lay. I handed them to him, kissing him softly on the head and walking to the door. "No matter what your decision, I'll be here for you. But if you accept the treatment then we could have the rest of our lives together. I'm not allowed to stay in your room overnight, but I've done my best and they're allowing me to sleep in the on call room as I'm a doctor. If you need anything, press the button above your head. Goodnight love."

And then I left.

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Please review!


	3. Chapter 3: The Decision

_Okay, I am so sorry for not updating, I was brought some terrible news last week and that has been consuming my every thought! I have also had exams and moving house to think about! I will update asap! Thanks for the room, they really have kept me feeling better when I was upset! x_

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I walked down the corridor back to the relative's room to find Mycroft and Greg who were still sat there together, in a similar position as before. However, this time Mycroft was lying on the sofa, asleep and Greg was staring blankly at the wall and he held his partner. I'd never seen Mycroft in such a helpless state before, but the worry for his brother was evidently becoming too much for him as it looked as if he'd just passed out into Greg's arms. Greg gently moved Mycroft's head off his lap and walked over to me so that we could talk without disturbing the elder Holmes brother.

"He's taking it bad, very bad. I think it was quite a trauma for him, seeing Sherlock in this state again. I mean, when he was on the drugs he used to do some stupid things, tried this countless times. Mycroft did all he could but it was no use, if Mycroft hadn't forced me to give him cases, god knows what would have happened!" Greg said softly. "What happened?"

And I told him. Everything. Down to the very last detail. "He's thinking about things now, but I think I've got through to him. God, I hope I have. I don't know what I'd do without him." And the tears began again.

"Hey, it's alright mate, it's going to be alright." Said Greg, wrapping his arms around me.

"I know, it's just the not knowing. Look, you should get him home." I said nodding towards Mycroft.

"Not a chance, we're staying here. Anyway, if I wake him up now, he'll never go back to sleep. We'll stay the night in here, one of the nurses has just popped off to get us a couple of blankets. You can go home if you like, get a shower, clean clothes, good night's sleep and all that. We'll call you if anything happens." Greg offered kindly.

"Thank you but I can't leave him, I swore to him that I wouldn't." I replied, bidding him a goodnight before going to the on call room where I endured a sleepless night.

Tossing and turning. Words swirling round my head. Worst case scenarios. Ruined opportunities.

As soon as I saw light coming through the blinds, I got myself out of bed and put on my shirt from the day before. I remade the bed and left the room just as I'd found it, leaving to find Sherlock.

I returned to the room I'd been in the day before, which is where I found Sherlock arguing with an unfamiliar man. I entered the room to see what was going on, but didn't need to hear more than an angry insult from Sherlock to deduce what was going on. Sherlock's psych consult.

"Look Mr Holmes, there's no need for thi-"

"I am not in any way unstable, sociopathic, yes but not in need of being institutionalised!" Sherlock cut him off with gritted teeth.

"Mr Holmes, you are in no fit state to make any judgements over your own mental well-being. The events of yesterday show that you are not in the right frame of mind at all to be allowed to leave the hospital even if you are physically able to do so. If you are discharged, I would like to admit you to a psychiatric unit throughout your chemo, to monitor your mental health. I have read your notes very carefully and we don't want you relapsing and going back to old habits."

"I'm sorry, what? He's not going anywhere other than with me. Sherlock's brother and I have discussed this and we see it fit that I should monitor his recovery." I interrupted, not prepared to allow a doctor to take away the most cherished thing in my life.

"But-" I cut him off.

"Sherlock's actions yesterday where the result of finding out that he had a tumour on the organ he sees as most useful – I don't quite agree. However this is beside the point, he is no longer in any danger to himself or to others, yesterday was a minor hiccup. And I am the person best placed to make this call as I know him better than anyone." I stated confidently.

"But who the hell are you?"

"Doctor Watson, I am Sherlock's…" I pondered.

"Lover, boyfriend, significant other, partner, flat mate, best friend." Suggested Sherlock.

"So if you wouldn't mind, my partner and I would like to have a chat in private." I said, half shoving the psychologist out of the room. "So then partner, have you consented?"

"Yes. I realised that I could never do to you what I did before. Leaving you hurt me more than you can understand, but thinking that I was dead must have been impossible to live with." Sherlock said, showing empathy for what may have been the first time.

"It was and it wasn't something that I wanted to live with." I replied, pulling up the sleeve of my left wrist and showing him the thick, deep red and white scars that lay on my wrists.

"John," Sherlock closed his eyes and pressed feather-light kisses to the scars on my wrist. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, I didn't show you to make you feel guilty. I want you to understand how much I love you and the impact positive your presence has on people." Our lips touched again, soft yet, passionate.

"So, Graham and Mycroft then. How did I not see it." Sherlock said as we pulled apart.

"Greg." I corrected him.

"What?"

"His name is Greg, how can you not remember?"

"Molly seems to think that my memory lapse with names of people of significance is due to the tumour. I never had this problem before." He began, lifting his hand up and watching the tremors. "That's new as well. What else, John?"

"Memory-loss, difficulties with movement, loss of balance, speech difficulties, blindness, loss of hearing, inability to breathe, but that's all as it gets worse, if the chemo works, you'll be fine." I tried to reassure him.

"I don't think I can do this alone."

I lifted his chin so that he would have to look me in the eye. "You won't have to, it's me and you and nothing will change that." A single tear rolled down as his cheeks as he realised that I really wasn't going to leave him. He leant forward to press a sweet kiss to my lips just as Greg and Mycroft entered the room unannounced.

"Woah, you two should probably put up a warning sign." Greg laughed as he walked forward, dragging an exhausted looking Mycroft by the hand.

"Sherlock, don't you have something to say?" I urged him.

"Could the two of you leave us for a moment?" Sherlock asked, avoiding his brother's eyes. We silently obliged, watching them through the window in the door to Sherlock's private room.

We couldn't hear a word that was said, but we saw Mycroft telling the younger Holmes something that reduced him to tears. Something that evidently had a massive impact on Sherlock as he silently embraced him, wordlessly apologising for causing him so much worry. Mycroft sat on Sherlock's bed, discussing everything so calmly and uncharacteristically, showing a new side to the government official. I could see the good that Greg had done for him , before the fall, he would never have shown this sort of emotion, especially not towards his brother.

When we re-entered the room, Mycroft embraced his partner silently as I went and sat beside Sherlock, taking his hand in mine. I looked over at Mycroft to see the shocked look upon his face, he looked terrified.

"I'm going to take him home; we'll come and see you when you're discharged, but give us a call if you need anything. Make sure you rest, Sherlock. John, call us if there are any updates." Greg said, slipping his hand into Mycroft's. "Come on you."

"Thank you John." He murmured, his hands visibly shaking as he tried his best not to show his fear for his brother. "Look after yourself brother mine."

And the two of them left, leaving us to wait for Dr Saunders to come and give us news.

She arrived with a nurse and another doctor in tow, both of whom had evidently been made aware of Sherlock's earlier behaviour and looked at him with both pity and wariness.

"Mr Holmes, Dr Watson, we want to start chemotherapy as soon as possible, so we're going to give you a combination called PCV, which you will be able to take at home. We will insert a cannula into your hand now and tomorrow morning, the nurse will come round to put you on a drip for the first cycle. You will then take these, two Lumustine capsules, as soon as you've finished and for the next ten days you need to take 3 doses of two Procarbazine capsules a day." She explained.

"I'm a trained doctor, would I be able to administer it?" I asked, not wanting to subject Sherlock or the nurse to that.

"Okay, you'll need to take this home with you and keep it in the fridge." She replied, handing me the package.

"Do you have any more questions?" Dr Saunders asked politely.

"Will I able to work?"

"Look, Sherlock, if you can work, I encourage it, however Chemotherapy can cause severe exhaustion so you need to make sure that you're keeping yourself healthy and resting as much as possible. Sister James will go through the side effects with you now, insert your cannula and et you ready for discharge." She said, handing the notes over to the nurse and leaving.

I could see that Sherlock wasn't listening to the side effects at all. I knew them all already, but I had expected Sherlock would want to know what was going to happen, however he didn't seem in the slightest bit bothered. Once all the necessary tests had performed, I was left to get Sherlock changed so that I could take him home.

"Sherlock, turn around so that I can undo your gown, you need to put your pyjamas on." I told him as if I was talking to a child.

"Did you bring my dressing gown?" He asked eagerly.

"Yes."  
"The blue one?" He really was a child. I nodded in reply as I helped him pull his t-shirt over his head and put on his bottoms. I then wrapped the dressing gown around him, grabbed the medication and stuffed it into my bag, before putting my arm around him and helping him walk through the ward.

When we arrived back at 221b Baker Street, helped Sherlock out of the cab, paid the driver and unlocked the front door as quietly as possible.

Now we had to tell Mrs Hudson.

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Thanks for reading, please review 3


	4. Chapter 4: The Proposal

_I just want to say that I'm really sorry that this has taken to upload, we had a family bereavement, then I received two pieces of awful news, I've had exams and also I broke my laptop charger so its been pretty shit! I finish my exams in two weeks time but I should be able to update much more often :) I apologise for anything being out of character! This is for Ellinor, FaithfullyShipping, SerenityOfTheMatrix, Paula. , The Jumble Book and Danni9981, thanks for all your lovely reviews xx_

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"John, Sherlock, is that you?" Came a high pitched screech.

"Mrs Hudson, please help me get him upstairs." I asked, knowing that she'd want to know what was going on immediately.

"Good lord, Sherlock, are you okay." She said, seeing his condition and putting her arm round his waist to help me support him.

"Let's just get him upstairs." I replied for him, before the two of us managed (only just) to get Sherlock into the living room and onto the sofa where we lay him down and covered him in a blanket.

"John, please tell me what's going on." She asked, sitting beside Sherlock and stroking his hair gently as if he were her son as he fell asleep once again.

"Sherlock and I have been at the hospital, it wasn't good news. I didn't know but Sherlock had a scan a few weeks ago and they found a malignant tumour on his brain." I whispered so as not to wake him.

"Oh my Sherlock, my Sherlock!" She began to cry into his hair, rocking him slightly as she sobbed. "He'll be okay though won't he?"

"We don't know, he's going to start Chemotherapy soon, but we don't know if it will be enough." I said, foolishly begging the tears not to start fall down my cheeks.

"Oh John." She then took me into her arms as well, holding us both as I sobbed into the old landlady's knitted jumper.

…

It was just after eleven when I finally awoke, lying on the sofa with Sherlock splayed across my body, a blanket covering us both. I held his unconscious body to me as I kissed my way from his hair, to his forehead and then to his thin neck. When he didn't make any movement, I panicked. Pushing myself upright and pulling him into my arms so that I could check his pulse.

"What the fuck are you doing John?" Said a grumpy voice, curling into a ball and burying itself in my rapidly moving chest.

"I thought-"

"That I was dead?" He cut me off, half laughing.

"Sherlock, don't. Please." I whispered, getting up and walking across to the other side of the room, my back turned away from him as I struggled to stop my tears.

"John." I let out a small sob as he whispered my name. "I'm sorry, I just don't know how to deal with fear. I've never been this scared before. I didn't mean to upset you, forgive me."

"Forgiven." I replied as he wrapped his arms around my waist and I lent my head back to rest it on his shoulder. "For everything."

"How? How can you forgive me for what I did?" For a genius, he really was an idiot sometimes.

"Because I love you, that's how." I replied, grinning as he placed a loving kiss on my forehead. "Go and sit back down, you're not well enough for this. Do you want a cup of tea before I get the drip ready?"

"No, lets' just get it over and done with." He replied, sitting back down on the sofa, rolling up his sleeve so that I had access to his cannula.

I went and got the bag of PCV, hooking it to the metal bar.

Just as I was about to put connect it to the cannula, he stopped me.

"Its going to be okay." I whispered, sitting beside him and pulling him towards me.

"You don't know that." He replied, turning away.

I took hold of his chin gently, making him look me in the eye. "I do."

"You know that no matter what happens, I'll always be here. It won't be like last time. I can't leave, not until I know you're okay." Sherlock said, his eyes red and panicked but his voice calm.

"What are you saying?" I asked as he mirrored me and held my face in his hands.

"I don't want to do this."

"No, Sherlock, you can't leave me like this. Please." I let the tears fall from my eyes as he forced me to look into his.

"John, listen to me. I want you to let me go. I don't want to get sicker and sicker, turning into someone who you won't recognise. Not that I'll recognise you anyway." He said, smiling through his own tears, his voice so soft and sad.

"But the chemo." I tried to interrupt but it was no use.

"You know as well as I do that its not going to cure me, it'll just buy me a little more time. You saw the scan, John, its too far progressed." He replied, not giving in.

"Please, just one month, please just once, do it for me. For us. I've only just got you, and now you want to leave me." I choked, a lump had developed in my throat, and I could do nothing other than sob.

"You had me all along. From the start."

"You remember? The day we met. Do you remember?"

"Want to see some more?" He confirmed.

"Oh god yes." I sobbed as he pulled my head into his chest.

"Always, John, always" He replied.

"Then give me a month. One month Sherlock, so that we can say goodbye. Do the important things." I asked, ready to beg him if he didn't oblige.

"A month." He said wiping away my tears. "But only if you marry me."

I choked. Sobbing violently into his chest. Grabbing to his t-shirt as he held me. Not something I thought I'd ever do.

"I'll take that as a yes." I heard him say quietly.

We sat for a while, digesting everything, before I silently connected his cannula to the drip.

"Do you need anything?" I asked gently.

"Tea sounds lovely." He replied with a half-smile.

"How very British, things always get better with a nice warm brew." I replied, touching his hand before retreating to the kitchen.

…

The next thing I knew, there was shouting outside, familiar voices arguing as footsteps came up the stairs.

"Just leave it will you!" I heard Lestrade shout.

Sherlock turned to me as Anderson swung open the door, followed Donovan and an extremely apologetic Lestrade.

"This is not okay!" Anderson said at once, waving a particularly compromising of himself and his colleague.

"Get out!" I shouted, rushing across the room, trying to get them out before they saw Sherlock, but it was too late.

"Back on the drugs I see. I mean really John, giving it to him intravenously!" Donovan said bitterly.

"How dare you! He's not, it's not what you think!" I replied, struggling to contain my rage.

"Pull the other one John, shame on you! We can arrest you for this. Actually, you know what, we will! Donovan!"

"Don't even think about it!" Lestrade began.

"You can't just-"

"Oh John just tell them!" Sherlock tried to shout over the arguments but was unheard.

So he dragged himself off his chair and walked over to where we were stood arguing at the door without us noticing, his legs shaking more with each step. When he reached us he collapsed onto the floor, his body convulsing violently as we all looked on in shock.

"Get his head!" I ordered Lestrade who bent down and held Sherlock's head so that he couldn't injure himself. Anderson tucked a cushion under his head, rubbing Sally's back as she undid his shirt slightly so that it was easier for him to breathe.

I took hold of Sherlock's hand, the seizure still not having subsided. "Sherlock, you're going to be fine, I'm here. Everything's going to be okay." I said to him calmly, remembering my medical training as I got over the shock.

As the convulsion ceased, Lestrade and I carried him carefully to the sofa, covering him with a blanket and allowing him to rest.

"John, what the fuck is going on?" Asked Sally as she looked at Sherlock, surprisingly all I saw was concern rather than bitter resentment.

I looked to Lestrade, hoping that he'd do the explaining. "Sherlock's got a brain tumour. This is to be kept in confidence, no one at the yard or anywhere else for that matter is to know!" He whispered, swallowing down the lump that had evidently appeared in his throat. "I'll see you at the yard tomorrow." He said dismissing them.

"John, I'm so sorry." Sally said as the two of them left.

…

When Sherlock had finally regained consciousness, I had already informed both Mycroft and Lestrade of everything.

"I don't want to get married in a church." Was the first thing he said.

"Married?"

"Ah yes, I should have mentioned that, we um, got engaged!" I laughed, sitting beside Sherlock.

"Beat us to it then!" Lestrade raised him eyebrows at me, giving us both a congratulating smile.

"I'm sorry what?" Mycroft spluttered, choking on his tea.

"I was um, going to um, propose, the night we got the call." Greg said, rubbing the back of his neck with his rough hands.

Mycroft froze, surprisingly unable to make quick-witted comeback.

"So, will you marry me then." Greg said nervously, getting down on one knee and taking the ring from his pocket which he'd kept there for safe keeping.

Mycroft's initial look of shock turned to a barely concealed grin, "I will." He said looking away out of embarrassment of his lack of control over his emotions, "But we're not having a double wedding!" Greg stood up and kissed him softly, not caring that his soon to be brother in law and his fiancé was watching awkwardly.

"Certainly not." Sherlock pitched in, slowly getting up with my help to hug his brother.

"Right, we'd better be off." Greg said after a few moments of silence.

After they'd left, Sherlock and I sat on the sofa happily, well, as happily as we could be.

Despite all the cheerfulness, I couldn't get rid of the stabbing in my heart. I loved him. No matter how many times I denied it. No matter how long it took me to realise. I did love him and that made it so much harder to let him go.

* * *

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